


You Can Pick Up Where You Left Off, You Wait

by wasp



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, ziam tour!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasp/pseuds/wasp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wouldn’t give this up for the world except that seems to be exactly what he’s doing right now. (Zayn and Liam win X Factor as a duo, Louis is Zayn's best friend and Liam's boyfriend and when they leave on tour there's a lot of pining.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Pick Up Where You Left Off, You Wait

"Please don't go," Louis says quietly into the junction where shoulder meets neck, mouthing softly at Liam's skin.

Liam's still blissed out, warmth curling around him like a blanket but the words sobers him up, it feels a little bit like being punched in the gut. He waits patiently for Louis to look up again, sliding his palm down his spine slowly, stroking the feverish skin. When he refuses to make eye contact, Liam pushes gently at his shoulder until he shifts backwards a bit, pulling his head back to stare down at Liam.

Louis ducks down again and presses a kiss to the bone of his shoulder, sliding his mouth along the line of his collarbone before licking at the hollow of his throat. Liam makes a sound at the back of his throat and Louis smiles into his skin, as if he could make Liam forget. Liam just trails his fingers up his back again, thumb gentle across the dip of his ribs. Louis climbs on top of him properly instead of slumping against him, leaning down on his elbows to look down at Liam. He smiles suddenly, too quickly and it’s all artificial brightness, like he could erase what he’d said through sheer determination and will.

"Lou," Liam starts, heart caught high in his throat and threatening to spill out all over the both of them.

Louis stoops down to press a kiss to his chin, trying to hide again until Liam gently cradles his jaw in one palm and tilts his head to maintain eye-contact.

"I know, that wasn't fair of me," Louis says and lowers his head in apology, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. "I'm sorry," he mumbles and does it again, so that Liam won't be able to see his face.

Liam wraps his arms around his waist, slotting them together as close as possible before and tilts his head to get a better angle at Louis’ mouth. He’s afraid if Louis pulls away now the tour and his whole career is going to be thrown out the window to stay with him.

All he wants is to wake up in the early afternoons, muscles protesting from the night before and skin warmed by Louis and not much else. He wants to take turns making breakfast during the mornings and inevitably keep Louis from drowning in his eggs, watch him slowly start to come out of his comatose state with every sip of coffee. He wants to wash the dishes with Louis knowing full well he’s too lazy to scrub properly and he really _really_ doesn’t want to leave.

But he can’t. He’s got a worldwide tour coming up and it’s not like it’s just Liam, he’s got Zayn to think about as well. He won’t destroy what they’ve worked so hard for to keep himself happy because this _is_ what he’s wanted for as long as he can remember. It’s not fair to Zayn and it’s not fair to his fans and it’s not fair to himself but that all fades into background noise when Louis’ kissing him with a quiet sense of desperation that resonates in his bones.

"I love you," Liam says when Louis draws back. He says it quietly, honestly, like a plea, an apology.

"I love you too, Liam Payne," Louis says, pushing his face against his neck again.

He's half on top of him and Louis’ not exactly light, he's crushing Liam's ribcage a little bit and very soon he’s going to have trouble breathing. But he holds on tight and mumbles nonsense into his hair, his eyes slipping closed. He wouldn’t give this up for the world except that seems to be exactly what he’s doing right now.

~

With Liam’s audition for the X Factor, he hadn’t even been able to fathom the enormity of their success. He’d been given a second chance and instead of being eliminated, being placed into a duo with a boy his age that had these _huge_ eyes and stubbornly refused to dance. He’s terrified and nervous and so _so_ relieved to be in the competition. Another thing he didn’t expect was to get along with Zayn almost instantaneously. They’d gone from hesitant smiles and silence to uncontrollable raucous laughter followed by periods of quiet calm and, well, it’s nice. It’s better than nice, Liam’s never had a friend like Zayn and he gets to stand on stage with him every week and _sing._

They’re doing well, really well, and the fact that they have fans (a lot too) is incomprehensible. They shout a lot about their bromance, screaming ‘Ziam!’ into the air whenever the boys so much as glance at each other. Zayn only laughs and pulls him in closer, waving at the crowds, his nose scrunching up.

Liam tells Zayn he likes boys after a long training session, squashed together in his bunk. He told himself he should just in case it would prove to be a problem later on. It’s not like Liam has a problem with himself, not any more anyway but he’d still held himself stiffly, lying side by side with Zayn in the dark. He doesn’t know how Zayn’s going to react, he knows he’s got religious beliefs but he needs to know _now_ \- it’s better than Zayn finding out later and being even madder. He waits with baited breathe, praying Zayn won’t visibly recoil away from the way they’re pressed together as if Liam won’t be able to control himself. He doesn’t want it to be over, their little duo and the competition.

“Cool, I’m straight,” Zayn says and it’s not like he’s warning Liam or anything, he’s just trading information for information like they did about their family and hometown during the first few days, pretending they weren’t as homesick as they felt. He yawns loudly and drops his head against Liam’s shoulder and promptly falls asleep.

Liam’s whole body sags in sheer relief, melting down against the mattress. He takes in a deep shuddering breathe and after a while he smiles into the darkness of their shared bedroom, listening to the X Factor settling around them, and eventually fades to sleep.

~

It never gets easier to leave Louis at home no matter how many times he has to go.

Louis doesn’t particularly make it easier for him either, hiding all his socks and pretending he has no idea what Liam’s talking about. It’s not until Liam has Louis’ wrists pinned down to the bed, Louis almost sobbing from frustration that he can get the information out of him. Liam can play dirty, he only learnt from the best.

They arrive at the airport in the car, Liam's socks packed in his suitcase and Louis tucked into his side. He's unusually quiet, nosing his way along the column of his throat as if he's trying to memorise the scent of his skin and Liam just tightens his arms around him, presses a kiss to the side of his head.

The screaming crowd is unbearably shrill when they get out of the car, not enough people for it to blend into white nose, just enough to pierce his eardrums and split a headache into his brain. Liam only smiles and waves for the cameras, thanks the lucky starts there aren’t huge crowds milling around because that can get dangerous too quickly. Louis quirks his fingers at the fans when they shout his name too, holding onto Liam’s hand with the other and being bundled inside by security.

"I'm guessing you're sleeping behind those," Liam says with a laugh, tapping at Zayn’s sunglasses with a grin.

"Mmhumksigg," is all he says, pushing his hand away and slumping forward to hug Louis.

~

Liam first meets Louis through Zayn when he comes to one of their performances on X Factor. He knew he was Zayn’s best friend before that, he’d seen them skyping, could hear them from their shared bedroom even though he was trying to give them privacy by puttering around in the kitchen because they both got so _loud_.

Louis seems altogether too silly to be so close to Zayn but then again, Zayn can get pretty silly too. It’s not until he accidentally walks in on them having one of their quieter talks, Zayn’s eyes red rimmed and his hair in disarray, that he gets it. Louis calls out, “Oi, the better looking half of the duo. Give him a hug for me,” and Liam felt less like he’d intruded on something and did what his first instinct had told him to do anyway. He drew his arms around Zayn without hesitation, pulling him closer and letting him tighten his grip till Liam could hardly breathe. He caught a glimpse of Louis’ unreadable expression on the grainy webcam through the screen, his head tilted to the side.

He was even in one of the footages from home, the one they played during the finals with all of Zayn’s friends and families gathered at the town centre to cheer him on. He’d stolen the spotlight alright, making ridiculous faces behind the interviewer and interrupting every now and then to add something that would make everyone titter behind their hands like naughty children, the interviewer getting more and more frustrated.

Liam vividly remembers the first time they’d met. It was after a particularly rough performance that neither of them had anticipated and a harsh examination from the judges. The two of them were angry and worn out and terrified their best wasn’t good enough this late in the competition. Louis caught them backstage and tackled Zayn into what appeared to be his usual hug. Liam didn’t expect him to turn to Liam as well and pull him in. There’s something about Louis that’s reminiscent of home, comfort, even if he’s Zayn’s hometown friend and not Liam’s.

They meet again at Zayn’s birthday party, just before they win X Factor. All the surviving contestants are there, cheering the birthday boy, well on his way to getting fucked off his face.

Liam expected that, what Liam _didn’t_ expect was for Louis to drape himself across his back, standing on his tippy toes to unnecessarily snuffle against his neck. Liam’s joints lock up immediately, his hands clutching at his cup of water, even if Louis’ giggling with no malicious intent whatsoever.

"I'm so tiiiiiiired," Louis says, laughing into the side of Liam’s neck and being his distractive self as usual.

"That's one word for it," Liam says and detaches Louis long enough to turn around. Louis only throws his arms around his neck immediately, pressing his whole body flush against Liam's with a little moan.

"I wanna go home," he says, eyelashes fluttering against Liam’s sensitive skin when he shuts his eyes. He makes another sad little noise, tightening his arms as if he’s going to fall asleep right there and then, leaning up against Liam’s frozen form.

"Where are you staying for the night?" Liam asks, prioritising. He can take Louis home if he doesn’t want to stay, he doesn’t want him to be miserable. But Louis isn't able to give him an intelligible answer, just mumbles into his collar.

Liam pulls his phone out, holding Louis up with an arm around his waist, and calls a cab. He hurriedly says goodbye to a ridiculously drunk and giddy Zayn, letting him land a smacking kiss to his cheek. He doesn’t say anything about the way Zayn’s hanging off every word Rebecca’s saying because he’s got more pressing problems at his hands right now. Literally.

“You need to keep your hands to yourself,” Liam says, trying for exasperated and only ending up with bewildered. He holds onto Louis’ wrists with both hands, trying to keep him from slumping all over the sidewalk at the same time, because he gets handsy – handsi _er_ – when he’s drunk apparently.

Louis takes advantage of the fact that both of Liam’s hands are occupied to reach over and lick Liam’s face, pulling back with a goofy grin that Liam doesn’t think he’d be able to get mad at, even if he tried. It’s infuriating, Louis’ completely infuriating and Liam kind of wants to kiss him and really let Louis’ hands wander all they want. But he can’t, so like always, he doesn’t.

They finally get into the X Factor, only having faintly appalled the cab driver with inappropriate public conduct. Liam’s about to dump him in Zayn’s bed, leave him to figure out where he’s going to sleep for the night when he finally gets home barely able to see two feet in front of him, but Louis has other plans. He falls into Liam’s bed instead and insistently pulls at him until Liam lies down with him.

“You’d be the prettiest milkmaid,” Louis says, smiling dopily at Liam and pinching his cheek. He goes all octopus-limbs on Liam and he can feel his whole body shaking with laughter.

Liam finally gives up trying to maintain what little distance and dignity he possessed, his sigh unnaturally loud when Louis stops laughing. Liam can feel him staring at the side of his face, unrelenting, and he doesn’t give in to the urge to turn his head and look back at him even if he really wants to. He just stares straight up at the ceiling, wills it to be interesting and funny and handsome as Louis.

Louis shuffles around, jostling the both of them in the process and the back of his wrist swipes at the skin of Liam’s abdomen where he’s shirts ridden up and Liam tries not to jerk away too obviously. If Louis keeps insisting on fumbling around, trying to tangle them together in an attempt to get comfortable, Liam’s going to go from vaguely mortified to very embarrassed in about two minutes.

"Go to sleep, Louis," Liam says, almost pleading now. Louis’ spread out all over the bed, half-on top of Liam and he keeps _wriggling_ around.

"Can't. _Shan't_ ," Louis mumbles into his shoulder drowsily, nuzzling against the soft cotton. "Sing me to sleep," he demands, pushing his fingers deliberately under Liam's t- shirt with a harrumph.

The muscles in his abdomen jumps as Louis’ cold fingertips skate across the ridges of his abs and it sends shivers down his spine. Liam turns his face away from Louis and he’s so desperate he obliges. He starts singing next week’s song quietly, he doesn’t mean for his voice to come out so _soft_ but he shuts his eys anyway, pretends he’s not blushing into the dark like whatever the fuck a milk maid is.

When the song ends, Louis shifts against him, getting impossibly closer still. “I didn’t know your eyebrows did that naturally,” Louis says and when Liam turns his head, he’s looking at him a little bit like he’s in awe which doesn’t even begin to make _sense_. He knows what it feels like, though, it’s the second most frequent feeling he gets around Louis, right after the increased heartbeat and sudden bouts of flushing.

He doesn’t know what else to say but Louis’ still staring at him in the cramped little bed and there doesn’t seem to be much of a difference between this Louis and a sober one. He doesn’t have to say anything in the end because Louis leans up on his elbow, shifting closer slowly and says, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

He leans forward to bridge the gap between them, brushing his lips softly against Liam’s as if checking to see it’s okay. Liam’s breath catches in his throat, his eyes wide before they flutter shut and he releases it, barely a huff against Louis’ lips and kisses him properly. Louis presses kisses to his bottom lip, hot little licks against the seam of his mouth to get him to open up and Liam obliges easily, his hands shaking. Louis ends up rolled halfway on top of him, crushing Liam into the mattress with his warm, heavy weight but Liam’s too busy skating his hands carefully up his sides to note he can’t really breathe anyway.

With a sudden jolt, Liam realises what he’s doing and pushes him away, his hands curled around Louis’ shoulders in panic. He blinks up at him, eyes wide with shock.

“Whoa, hey, Liam, it’s just me,” Louis says, pulling backwards immediately, unable to roll off with Liam’s hands around him.

“You’re drunk,” Liam says, licking his lips, desperate for the last taste of Louis. He doesn’t _mean_ to sound so fucking miserable but then this isn’t how he wanted things to go at all.

“Is that the only objection you have to this?” Louis asks carefully, tracking the movement with downcast eyes. He looks back up, peering into Liam’s face and he looks nervous and excited and terrified all at once.

Liam averts his gaze and he lets go of Louis’ shoulders because he’s not going to do this. He can’t because Louis’ never going to forgive him and it wasn’t like there was much of a chance anyway because he’s just _Liam_ and this is Louis – this will only make things so much worse than it has to be and –

“’Cause I’m not,” Louis says after a pause, “not really.”

He reaches forward, tilting Liam’s chin up with a finger to make him look up. His blue eyes are oddly seriously and clear, still scared stiff but determined.

Liam blinks a couple of times because he’s not even slurring anymore, that drunken drawl from the party gone. That means, _oh_ , and Liam spares a moment to feel a bit miffed because he had to drag him all the way back home and there was that unfortunate groping the cab driver had been subjected to – Liam had never been so mortified in his life.

“Liam?” Louis asks tentatively, still looking so uncharacteristically nervous for someone who is literally on top of him.

Liam doesn’t even bother with a reply, surging forward to press their lips together again. Louis makes a surprised noise in the back of his throat and dissolves into giggles, his hand trailing over his skin to cup his jaw firmly. He lets Liam roll them over so he can hook a leg over the back of Liam’s knee, kissing the corner of Liam’s smile sweetly for a moment.

~

Liam’s _usually_ the gloomier one at airports, dreading the flight and how it takes him further from home and Louis with every minute. Louis’ the one who tries his best to cheer them both up, making snarky comments about the fans and their ear splitting screams while Liam tries to look appalled and defensive and failing.

It’s different this time around, something’s changed, and it feels like the air’s been punched out of him, knocked his ribs right loose.

Louis’ looking up at him with a smile but it’s so obvious he’s trying not to _cry_ and Liam drops his bag immediately, promptly forgetting about the fans and the cameras and the awaiting flight. He frees both hands to cup Louis’ face, tilting his face up in concern and shuffling closer.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, leaning forward so they’re breathing the same air, deaf to the increase in shouts, only hearing the hitches in Louis’ breathe that he’s trying to control.

“Just gonna miss you, s’all,” he says, his voice thick, “My piece on the side doesn’t have as great arms as you, obviously.” He clears his throat, laughing to try and lighten the mood but he still looks so small in Liam’s jacket and fucking sad. Liam doesn’t want to go as much as Louis doesn’t want him to go, that much is not up to debate.

“I’m gonna miss you too, sweetheart, but you’re coming out to New York in a month,” he says and tries not to think of how many days are in a month. “And we’ll Skype every second chance we get, c’mon,” Liam says, trying to convince himself too that he can do this again. He shucks Louis under the chin to try and get him to smile.

Louis doesn’t reply, just lowers his glassy eyes and lifts Liam’s hand back to rest against his cheek. He’s clutching at them, familiar weight of his palm over Liam’s hand, as if he’s willing him to stay without saying the words.

“I love you, so much,” Liam says, leaning closer, brushing their noses together. He knows they’re going to be a bit pissed about it later, they’ve had this talk. How using his sexuality to their advantage in the press is well and good but no-one really wants to see public displays of affection, even if Zayn can kiss Perrie all he wants to in public.

“I love you too,” Louis says and it’s so soft but it’s fine, Liam can still hear him over the screaming fans and his tour manager clearing his throat in warning.

Liam leans forward and presses a kiss to Louis’ mouth, just against the bow of his upper lip and pulls back, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone. Louis sighs and tilts his head to the side, leaning up to slide their mouths together better. It’s a little bit of _goodbye_ and _I’ll miss you_ and _do you have to?_ Liam wants to erase that look off of Louis’ face but before he has a chance to, he’s being pulled away, late enough to board the plane.

He turns around once he’s surrounded by their staff and catches Louis’ scrubbing harshly at his cheek with the back of one palm. He looks up when he realises Liam’s looking at him and smiles brightly, obnoxiously blowing a kiss. Zayn tries to fight him for it but Liam makes a show of pushing him away, catching it in his palm and pressing it against his heart. He can’t hear Louis laugh, he’s too far away now, but it’s almost enough.

~

The weather’s fucking freezing and it’s Liam’s fault, really, that he forgot to grab anything warmer than what he’s wearing. It’s summer in Australia and that means sweltering, suffocating heat and his sweater and jeans isn’t remotely appropriate for the abrupt change to England weather. He was in a rush, giddy with the thought, and he doesn’t even have his suitcase with him to drag out his dirty clothes. He’s tired from the plane ride, jetlagged, he can’t really feel the tip of his nose and he can barely see through the 5am fog but something tells him it’s all going to be worth it.

He stumbles off the bus, blinking blearily at the familiar neighbour and doesn’t forget to thank the bus driver. He’s may be somewhat famous and recognisable now but he’s not a _plebeian_. He rubs his arms over the material of his sweater and when that fails to do anything, shoves his hands in his pocket and glances down the block. He grits his teeth, letting himself shiver violently till his back aches before starting off at a run.

He doesn’t stop, pounding up the stairs and shaking as the sweat rapidly cools on his skin. He stands at the door for a moment, his numb fingers refusing to cooperate. The lock finally clicks open and it’s still so fucking cold in their little apartment. Liam makes a mental note to talk to the landlord before he leaves or possibly get a new flat, now that he has the means and all.

Liam doesn’t waste any more time, beyond excited at the thought of seeing Louis. There’s anticipation ballooning in his belly and he feels it in his finger tips and toes, even if that’s the only sensation he feels in his extremities at the moment. He rushes forward, lifting the duvet at the foot of their bed and crawling up Louis’ sleep-warmed body. He’s starting to rouse, cocooned in his fortress of blankets, mumbling sleepily.

Liam warms up slowly, wrapping his arms around his waist and pushing his face against Louis’ chest, against the soft material of his worn t-shirt. It’s one of the many he leaves behind so Louis can pretend he doesn’t sleep in them. He lifts his head, getting his icy nose at the hollow of his throat and takes a deep shuddering breathe, closing his eyes and taking a moment to be surrounded and overwhelmed by the familiarity.

Louis’ skin’s warm and sleepy-soft under the heavy sheets and he pulls Liam closer until he stops shaking from the cold seeped into his bones. He’s still half-asleep but he lazily cards his fingers through Liam’s hair, hands affectionate against his skin.

“Hi,” Liam simply says, shuffling up so he can smile at Louis, absurdly pleased with himself. He wants to take a picture of Louis’ face right now because it’s beyond priceless but then again he’s allowed to be selfish and keep it all to himself.

"I thought you couldn't get home till after Christmas?" Louis asks, still blinking sleepily at him, a little frown on his face like he can't figure out of this is a dream or not.

“I have my ways,” Liam says mysteriously, watching the realisation hit Louis. It’s all he wanted, really, to make him happy. “I wanted to spend Christmas Eve at home with you,” he says, resting his chin against Louis’ sternum and smiling up at him.

It takes another moment for Louis to fully comprehend the situation that _yes_ Liam wasn’t going to magically disappear in a whiff of smoke if made any sudden movements. Liam laughs as Louis flips them over, looming over him with a huge grin starting to spread on his face, unable to contain the noise that escapes his throat.

“Just in case this is my subconscious being a _dick_ , I think I should take advantage of this situation,” he says and ducks down to kiss Liam eagerly before sliding down his torso, pulling the covers over his head.

Afterwards when they’re too tired and sore to do much but _breathe_ , Louis doesn’t let go of Liam’s hand. He presses a kiss to each knuckle, mouthing “I missed you,” in between each one.

Then all Liam’s left to do is collapse on top of Louis again and try to memorise every last inch of him again before he has to go.

~

Liam’s in the middle of a twitcam when his phone starts vibrating insistently, Louis’ face beaming up from the screen. He calculates the time in England and realises with a jolt it’s about 4am and can’t help the dread start spreading. He can’t stand the thought of something happening to Louis while he’s on the other side of the world, if he can’t get there on time.

“Just a sec, guys,” Liam says to the screen, turning away to try and disguise his worry as he takes the call.

“Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiam!” Louis shouts into the mouthpiece, the sound coming off as tinny and shrill.

Liam exhales slowly through his nose, can’t help the smile start to spread, his cheeks pulling up at the sound of Louis’ voice. He’s obviously drunk but he doesn’t sound like he’s in trouble or anything and he can rest easy for another night.

“Lou,” Liam says, trying desperately to sound exasperated and probably coming off as incredibly fond instead.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” he slurs out, giggling giddily.

“Having a good time?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to sandwich the phone between his shoulder and ear. He holds up a finger up to the screen, typing quickly so he won’t have to put down the phone. “I’m on twitcam, say hello to everyone,” Liam says, holding the phone out to the microphone on his laptop.

“Hallaballoo motherfuckers!” Louis says loudly, erupting into another fit of giggles and Liam hurriedly snatches the phone away. He can’t help laughing along even if he’s mouthing a quick ‘sorry’ at the screen because there are _children_ probably watching.

“Aw, Liam, am I distracting you from your fans?” Louis says and Liam doesn’t have to be next to him to hear the pout evident in his voice.

“You know I never mind,” Liam says, softer than he’d intended. It’s true though, he never minds when Louis calls.

There’s a brief pause on the line and then Liam’s suddenly really glad he’s phone’s nowhere near the microphone anymore since Louis has a tendency to get _filthy_ and play dirty when he’s drunk (and also when he’s not so drunk). Liam really doesn’t need to see the world see him getting hard on camera.

It doesn’t help that Liam’s already half-hard in his sweatpants from what Louis is slurring into the phone, how much he wants to be on his knees for Liam right now and Liam has to laugh awkwardly, rubs at his pinked cheeks with clammy palms in an attempt to play it off on camera.

He finally turns back to his laptop and says in what he hopes is a normal tone, “I think I’m going to turn in for the night.” He clears his throat, fumbling with the phone before smiling and saying the usual, “Thank you _so_ much, I love you all, it’s been incredible. Bye!” He shuts the laptop immediately, not paying mind to the steady stream of twits shouting at him not to go.

He scrambles to get the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder again, shoving his hand down the waistband of his sweatpants and into his boxers.

“Louis,” Liam says, wrapping his fingers around his cock and closing his eyes, swallowing hard. “Is there any possibility you could somehow get on Skype right now?”

Usually it’s Louis who has to convince Liam to turn on the camera, get each other off as best as they can from hours away but right now all Liam wants is to see is Louis, flushed and gorgeous. Louis only laughs into the phone, his breath catching as if he’s doing the exact thing as Liam.

“Sorry babe, just my phone, m’afraid,” he says, his voice pitched low, ceasing the ridiculous, deliberately over-the-top tone from before.

“I sincerely hope you’re not getting off in a pub,” Liam says, tries to sound chastising as his hand speeds up, thumbing over the wet head of his dick and smoothing it down.

“Mmhm, we should try that, fuck in a pub,” Louis says and when he starts detailing what exactly he’d like to do in the bathroom of a pub while all their friends are outside playing pool, Liam comes all over his fist, soaking into his boxers. He leans back in the chair, his eyes still closed and his neck’s starting to cram from the awkward position but he doesn’t move, listening to Louis whimpering and knowing he’s close.

“C’mon Lou, come for me, yeah?” Liam says, still coming down from his orgasm, his voice sounding breathless, a direct contrast to the noises Louis’ making.

After a little while, Louis’s familiar, unabashed laugh fills the phone and Liam grins into the darkness of his hotel room. He keeps his eyes closed, not getting up to clean himself off yet. He’d rather pretend Louis’ right in front of him for a moment or two.

“Shit, I think I got come on Niall’s sofa,” Louis says, sounding tired even if his smile’s evident in his voice.

“Oh god, please don’t tell me he’s passed out next to you,” Liam says mortified and yet unable to keep the laughter from bubbling out of his throat. It’s not funny, it shouldn’t be funny, it’s so completely _wrong_ and Liam can’t stop laughing.

There’s another pause on the phone and Louis finally says carefully, “At least I didn’t get any on him?”

“Louis!” Liam says, choking on his laughter and trying to keep it down. He doesn’t know why, Zayn’s at the bar downstairs and it’s not like he’s disturbing anyone else.

Louis joins him, rustling coming through the phone as if it’s being jostled around by the force of his laughter. They both calm down and the line goes comfortably silent and Liam doesn’t think about how he should really get up and get in the shower because he’s kind of disgusting at the moment, he just wants to stay like this with Louis breathing on the other side.

“I wish you were here,” Liam says before he can stop himself. He promised he wouldn’t, he knows it only makes everything that little bit harder on Louis, on both of them.

Louis doesn’t speak for a moment and when he does, he’s quietened down again as he says, “Yeah, me too.”

~

At times it feels like homesickness is an actual disease and it just _consumes_ Liam. He’s constantly high-strung and stressed from the tour, physically drained from the extent of it all. He currently has the day off, he’s not even sure what day it is – it’s been that kind of week – but he knows what city they’re in and that seems to be enough, especially when he’s not going to be leaving the hotel room anyway.

Liam doesn’t even lift his head when he hears the knocking at the door, his limbs refusing to move. He shrugs to himself, pushing his face against the softy downy pillows and covers his ears like a kid. It’s probably Zayn or Paul and he doesn’t seem to have the energy to interact with other humans today. He just wants to sleep.

He’s aware he’s probably the most boring person to tour the world with since he doesn’t want to go out for drinks or clubbing – he’s just _tired_. Liam chastises himself with a groan muffled into the pillow because Zayn would probably just as well climb into bed with him and watch reruns of Bob’s Burger than drag him out into the city. All Liam wants to do at the moment is wallow in his misery.

The knocking refuses to cease and since Liam’s attempts to smother himself with a pillow is proving unsuccessful, he forces himself to roll off the bed and make his way towards the door. His limbs feel unbelievably heavy and sluggish, unco-operative in the way they seem to be responding a second too late. Liam grits his teeth against the headache threatening to form heavily behind his eyes and yanks the door open with more force than necessary. He has a much politer response than the _fuck you_ that refuses to fade in his mind ready but he promptly forgets all of that.

“Surprise!” is the only warning Liam gets before there’s elbows and knees knocking into him and a Louis in his arms.

“What,” he says dumbfounded, his mouth dropping open. He’s arms are already tightening around Louis like it’s second nature. “What,” he repeats because his brain’s chosen this moment to sky-dive out of his head and he can’t think of anything else to say let alone process it.

“Is this okay?” Louis asks suddenly, ceasing his nuzzling into Liam’s neck to pull back. He watches Liam’s face in apprehension, still clutching at his shoulders with his fingers.

“What,” Liam tries again and then it kind of hits him, through the fatigue and general feeling of misery that he’s got Louis in his _arms_. He huffs out an incredulous laughter, zoning in on Louis completely and swooping forward. He doesn’t waste any more time, kissing that uncertain expression off Louis’ face.

He doesn’t understand how Louis can second-guess how much he means to Liam at any point _ever_. Liam kisses him desperately; licking into his mouth and keeping their bodies pressed flush together, trying to show just how much he missed him. Louis’s gently cradles his face in his hands, kissing him back even though they’re halfway out into the hallway by now.

Liam doesn’t want to _stop_ but he realises they’d probably have to get inside the room if anything else is going to go down. He pulls back, his arms still tight around Louis and Louis follows his mouth immediately, his bag lying abandoned behind him. Liam draws him into the hotel room, refusing to let go of in case he disappeared and this was a hallucination brought on from lack of sleep and overwork. He doesn’t even bother with the bag before he’s slamming the door shut and pushing Louis up against it, pressing their smiles together.

“How’d you get here?” Liam asks, his voice hushed and in awe as if the spell’s going to break any moment now.

“A bus, then a plane, then another plane, and then another bus and oh, Zayn had the decency to send a car,” Louis says, his hands resting at the nape of Liam’s neck, absent-mindedly stroking at the soft skin with his thumb, a huge grin taking over his face no matter how hard he tries to keep it in check.

Liam doesn’t bother replying but just leans forward and kisses every bit of his face he can reach. He tightens his grip on Louis’ waist, hearing Louis laugh against him and squirm. He’s overwhelmed and delirious with Louis’ presence and he can’t seem to stop himself from acting like an overly affectionate puppy.

“Babe, I’ve been on a plane for twenty hours, I’m not fucking you against the door,” Louis says as Liam’s ministrations become more focused. Liam hums against his neck, following the column of his throat and ducking down to bite at the line of his collarbone. “I guess I can be persuaded,” Louis gasps, his fingers scrabbling at Liam’s shoulders.

Liam laughs against his neck, his shoulders shaking and god he feels like he’s going to burst out of his skin, he can’t stand how good it feels. He spins them around, walking Louis back towards the huge bed with a goofy smile on his face.

“You and Zayn kept this a secret?” he asks, leaning forward to rub his nose against Louis’, his thigh wedged between his.

“That’s why it’s called a surprise,” Louis says and he makes a good attempt to roll his eyes but it’s impaired by the answering smile on his face.

“Mmhm,” Liam says against his throat, tumbling them both into the bed.

~

It always passes too quickly, the days or weeks he has with Louis out of months of separation and Liam wants to dig his nails in and not let go. Louis’ attended the concert, drawing Liam’s eyes to his seat throughout the whole time. He can’t help smiling stupidly into the darkness, can’t even see him properly except a flash now and then and he takes Zayn ribbing at him when they run backstage to get changed good-naturedly. They go out to dinner in inconspicuous cars, keeping a low profile as Zayn blazes into clubs and takes the brunt of it. Louis’ even dragged Liam out for Starbucks runs, ordering for Liam because he’s kind of hopeless and doesn’t _get_ it. Zayn and Louis gang up on Liam and persuade him with matching puppy-dog expressions to get him to come out to the clubs and he finds he doesn’t mind it in the end, not when it’s just Liam and Louis moving against each other through the sweat and the heat.

Time flies past them and it’s all Liam can do to relish in it.

~

Liam’s trying to do a radio interview over the phone, cradling the phone between his shoulder and shoulder while attempting to navigate his laptop at the same time. He’s typing up a quick email to send to his sister so when Louis gets back home he won’t lie extravagantly about how Liam’s looking like a skeleton. He finally just gives up, leaning back on the sofa and laughing into the phone about a joke that’s gone completely over his head.

“Yeah, no, it does get hard but y’know, you do what you can,” Liam says into the phone, backtracking, trying to concentrate. He _did_ offer to do the interview, just because Zayn was looking dangerously on that side of worn-out and probably needed a fifteen hour nap, he shouldn’t be doing a rubbish job of it.

Liam’s cranes his neck over the sofa to look at Louis at the mention of family. It’s past noon and Liam had been careful not to wake him when he’d gotten out of bed and he’s now sprawled over both sides of the bed, the sheets kicked off the edges and Liam can only thank the gods that Louis’ wearing boxer briefs because the view is already distracting enough as it is. Liam knows he’s awake by now, he just can’t find the energy to move.

Liam turns back to his laptop, staring blankly at his email account and concentrating on holding a decent conversation with the radio interviewer for a couple more minutes. He’s answering the same old questions he could answer in his sleep by now when Louis finally tumbles off the bed. He turns his head at the sound, catching Louis getting back up with his hair sticking up in every direction. He mumbles something, running his fingers through it before pottering over to Liam, eyes still half-closed.

He brushes past Liam, smiling down at him sleepily and when he reaches the mini bar, he bends over. He stays that way for a little way, seemingly heavily conflicted about which beverage to choose before he pulls out a bottle of orange juice.

“It was a lot of pressure, actually, in a house full of strangers,” Liam says into the mouth piece, eyes glued to the curve of Louis’ arse, the bruises peeking out over the waistband of his underwear. He knows where else his fingerprints are imprinted, on the insides of his strong thighs where he’d held them down against the bed as he’d opened him up and if Louis just _shifts_ a little –

“But they became family, the other curves – contestants, the other contestants,” Liam says and jerks his gaze away when Louis straightens up. He turns around, grinning smugly and uncaps the bottle slowly. He lifts an eyebrow in Liam’s direction and tilts his head back, wrapping his lips around the rim of the plastic and hollowing out his cheeks in an entirely unnecessary manner.

“Oh, definitely. I’m excited for X Factor this year even if we won’t really have much chance to watch it live,” Liam says, his brain almost on auto-pilot because he has a sinking feeling Louis’ just started to hum _Pony_ and that’s not going to bode well for anyone.

Louis finally comes over to the couch, slipping in next to Liam. Liam lifts his arm on instinct, curls Louis’ tighter around him and continues to talk. It’s just simple and comforting, to have Louis in arms-reach, and Liam can’t help trailing the pads of his fingertips over the warm skin of his shoulder, can never stop touching him.

Louis shifts his head in response, nosing along his stubble until he can press a kiss against his jaw. Liam smiles, suddenly sounding way too happy about the infamous fan who tried to break into their hotel room, and Louis just does it again, trailing his mouth down the side of his neck. And then it gets kind of difficult to hold a decent radio interview over the phone because Louis scrapes his stubble against the sensitive dip of his collarbone and tilts Liam’s head to the side with nimble fingers, sucking a love bite just above his collar where everybody will be able to see.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Liam says and he can feel Louis smirking against him, his teeth sharp against the mark he’s just made.

He pulls back and Liam breathes out a sigh and he doesn’t know if it’s more relief or regret. It becomes clear which it is when Louis swiftly straddles his hips, early bone-less low-hum energy replaced by his usual self. He’s rests his arms against Liam’s shoulders, fingers linked at the nape of his neck and he’s pushing down against the fly of his jeans and just looking _really unfairly good_ for someone who’s been in bed for the majority of the day.

“If you’re horny, let’s do it,” he sings softly, shit-eating grin firmly in place and he rolls his hips _slowly_. He sounds ridiculous but then Liam finds a lot of things about Louis a turn on and this is no exception.

“I’m on the phone,” Liam mouths, pointing to his mobile, his fingers curling around Louis’ thigh anyway.

“Ride it, my pony,” Louis says, raising his eyebrows and leans down slowly, ghosting his lips against Liam’s. He only pecks his cheek and slides off his lap, standing up again as if he’s going to walk off and get ready to go out for lunch.

Liam thinks _screw it_ and hastily finishes the interview off, thumbing at the end call button frantically so the whole radio station won’t have access to their sex life. He throws it over his shoulder, hearing it thud softly against the plush carpet and lifts himself off the sofa. He’s already hard against the zipper of his jeans, straining against the material from Louis’ half-arsed lapdance. Louis turns around at the sound, his lips parted as if in surprise - as if this wasn’t _exactly_ what he’d planned.

“Right,” Liam just says, walking over and throwing Louis’ arm over his shoulder. He bends over and hauls Louis onto his shoulder and carries him back to the bed, Louis cackling in his ear.

~

“D’ya have to leave soon?” Liam mumbles against Louis’ belly, his face against the worn cotton of his t-shirt. He doesn’t want to move from this position, wants to stay like this: spread out on the hotel bed and content to waste the day in bed doing nothing.

Louis just runs his fingers through hair at the nape of Liam’s neck, scratching lightly at his scalp and turning Liam boneless against him. He makes a non-committed noise in the back of his throat and does it again. Liam bites at the skin through the thin material, pressing a kiss over it immediately because he knows all of Louis’ distraction tactics by now.

“Don’t really have to do much of anything,” Louis says and his fingers slip under the collar of Liam’s shirt, trailing over the knobs of his spine lazily.

“What do you mean?” Liam asks, lifting his head to look up at Louis.

Louis is avoiding his gaze though, staring up at the ceiling as if it’s particularly interesting. Liam just groans, shifting up so he can crawl up the length of his body, his limbs protesting. His elbows finally come to rest on either side of Louis’ head, bracketing his head and letting Liam look into his face properly.

Louis continues to stay silent for a little while longer, playing with Liam’s collar. “I’m thinking of dropping out,” he finally says, biting down on his bottom lip, hard enough for the skin to turn white under his sharp teeth.

“You’re what?” Liam asks, a frown dipping into the space between his eyebrows. He doesn’t understand, Louis _loves_ teaching, it’s all he’s ever wanted to be. “You’re so close to finishing. Did you change your mind about something?” he continues, bumps their noses together in an attempt to get his attention.

“Can we not talk about this right now,” Louis says, rolling his eyes. He moves his thigh up, pressing it firmly against Liam’s crotch and his hands area already starting to slip down low.

Liam doesn’t let him, rolling off his body with a grimace. He sits up on the edge of the bed, tugging at Louis’ hand. “No, we _should_ talk about this right now. What happened?” he asks, threading their fingers together.

Louis sighs heavily, grumbling to himself about wasted opportunities and time being precious. He allows Liam to pull him into a sitting position and looks down at the sheets, trying to hide behind his fringe.

“I do. I still want to teach and everything. It’s just. It’s taking so long and I can’t leave again for too long,” he says, playing with Liam’s hand. He takes a shaky breathe, shoulders rising sharply and he’s still unable to match Liam’s levelled gaze when he says, “I haven’t got any time to be with you.”

Liam finds him unable to respond immediately, shocked into silence and definitely not in the same way as before. He gapes at Louis, trying to formulate words that won’t totally ruin everything. It scares him how much he _wants_ it, sickens him to his stomach that he wants Louis on tour with him every day. He wants to spend their time off together and go on holidays without Louis’ school work suffering or his responsibilities at home. He wants to take Louis out and listen to him make fun of Americans and go surfing in Australia like they’d always wanted to.

“You can’t drop out of school to be with me,” he says, trying wildly to grasp onto a logical stream of thought. “That’s – that’s the stupidest thing I’ve heard you say, Lou,” he adds, shaking his head to try and clear it.

Louis’ head snaps up immediately and he’s glaring at Liam, his shoulders drawn up tight and defensive. “It’s different for you. This is all you’ve wanted to do since you were five, you’re travelling all over the world and meeting new people – look, I’m stuck at home trying to get through this bloody course and I can’t sleep, it’s too hard without you.”

“You’re going to throw your life away so you can come on tour with me for a couple of months? C’mon, that’s not – it’s not worth it,” Liam says and he has too many things he need to say at the same time. He needs to tell Louis it’s not that different at all, he misses Louis as much as Louis misses him, he hates sleeping alone as much as he does, sometimes he doesn’t think he can quite _cope_ without Louis and that’s still fucking terrifying.

“Glad to know what I’m worth to you, Liam,” Louis says and it’s like he’s been looking like an excuse to run away the whole time. He twists his hand out of his grip, getting off the bed to stride towards the door.

Liam stares at him dumbfounded, his thoughts whirling in his head so fast he can’t figure out what he needs to do. He calls out his name but it’s too late, he’s already slammed the door shut behind him.

~

But the thing is, he doesn’t come back and Liam tries his hardest not to let the panic overwhelm him. He knows where he is, not the exact location but he knows Louis always used to go to the park with his little sisters whenever he was truly upset and he figures that’s where he’s disappeared to now. Liam’s got his phone in his hand, hurriedly typing out the hotel’s address to see where the nearest one is.

Liam uses the key card lock they share to let himself into Zayn’s room, blinking rapidly in the sudden dark. He stumbles his way to Zayn’s bed, reaching down to shake him awake.

“I need help,” Liam says and Zayn only blinks at him sleepily. He notices that something’s off, even through the foggy-haze of sleep, and he struggles into a sitting position. He looks up at Liam in concern, trying his best to look as attentive as possible and waits. “Louis ran off into the city he knows nothing about and I need to find him, preferably without Paul trailing after me,” Liam explains quickly, rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, okay,” Zayn says and throws his leg over the side of the bed, getting up shakily. “I got it, I’ll cover for you,” he says and pats his shoulder, rubbing at his eyes with his other hand.

Liam doesn’t know how he’s thinking of pulling that off, keeping Liam’s whereabouts under the radar long enough for him to get Louis back but he reaches forward to give him a quick hug anyway. Zayn tightens his arms around Liam briefly before letting him go like he doesn’t need any further explanation.

“You better find him, Liam,” Zayn says, voice still rough from sleep. Liam turns to look at him, about to respond but he’s got a confused frown on his face, his head tilted to the side. “Or he better not have fucked you over,” he says and he groans, rubbing his hands down his face. “Who the fuck am I supposed to be threatening?”

“I get it,” Liam says, opening the door again to let the flood of light in. “Thanks,” Liam says and Zayn shrugs, starting to pull on his clothes.

“The nearest park is-.”

“Five minute walk north, yeah,” Liam says and Zayn just nods, stilling his movements to watch Liam run out the door.

~

Liam finds Louis in the park, sitting on the grass with his head pillowed in his arms, far from the sound of children playing. He’s in a little clearing past the trees and when Liam walks over, he doesn’t lift his head, just tenses up. Liam brushes his finger tips against the nape of his neck, just above the collar of his t-shirt, not sure if Louis wants him to stay or go.

Louis doesn’t respond at all for a moment, limbs coiled tight around himself. He sighs against his arm, still refusing to look up and blindly reaches for Liam’s hand. He pulls him down behind him by the hand. Liam almost collapses in relief, settling behind Louis, his wrist still clutched in Louis’ grip. He leans forward until he can rest his forehead between Louis’ shoulder blades, drawn around him but not enveloping him like he wants to, not yet.

“I know that’s not what you meant. I just - it’s ridiculous but being on tour with you never feels real,” Louis says finally, his head still bowed.

Liam traces his finger tips across the line of his shoulder, stroking absently at the sun-warmed material. He breathes out against Louis’ shoulder and keeps his eyes closed.

“I just want us to be a home,” Louis says and it hits him low in the guts, the way Liam can’t stand the way Louis’ curled away from him.

He tugs at Louis until he’s leaning back against his lap, his head against his abdomen. Liam wraps his arms around him, holding him closer and smoothing his hand down his t-shirt and resting it over his belly, ducking down to press a kiss against his forehead.

Louis leans into his arm, resting his cheek against the inside of his forearm. Liam can feel his eyelashes fluttering against the thin skin, like he’s trying to gather the strength to open his eyes up and look up at Liam.

Liam tries to swallow the feeling in the back of his throat, like it’s swollen and closing up on him, and says, “Do you want to see other people?”

He’s thought of this an awful lot, it keeps him up, gnaws at him when Louis goes home early after a night out with his mates just so he can catch Liam before he needs to do an interview. He reasons it’s not fair to keep this up for the both of them, the expectation for them to be able to do this with so many obstacles in the way. They’re so far away and the phone calls keep slipping through the time zones and tightly-packed schedules and Louis deserves to be _loved_ in every sense of the word.

“While we’re not together,” Liam continues with his eyes downcast. He’s playing with the collar of Louis’ shirt, hanging over him and watching the line of his throat.

Louis unearths himself from his hiding place, tilting his head back to stare at Liam upside down. He’s eyes are huge and devastating, rolled up to look up at Liam and Liam runs his palm up over his chest, resting it against his heart to distract himself from it. When he looks back at Louis, he’s got his bottom lip pulled between his teeth and he knows it’s going to look raw and bitten by the time they’re through.

“Do you want to?” he asks, his hands flying up to grip at Liam’s. He stills them against his collarbones, pressing them down hard as if he’s trying to keep himself grounded and together through sheer will power.

Liam shakes his head, can’t seem to be able to work his throat from the terror. He can’t look at Louis for too long, averts his gaze again to play with the wrinkled collar of his shirt because he’s being _selfish_ , he knows, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t want anyone but Louis.

“I just want you,” Liam says, finally making eye-contact with Louis.

Louis breathes out into the space between them, his eyes slipping shut as he brings Liam’s hand up against his mouth. He kisses the back of his hand and looks up again and says, “I just want you too.”

The air’s thick and heavy, weighed down with the heat of it all. Liam looks down at Louis, the blue of his eyes and the swell of his bottom lip and he can’t think of his life without him. It clears his head a little, the way Louis looks at Liam sometimes, and he nods in determination.

“We’ll be worth it, yeah?” Liam says, cupping Louis’ chin with his palm and leaning forward to kiss him. His neck is aching from the awkward angle and his chin brushes against the tip of Louis’ chin, upside-down, but he doesn’t pull back.

“Yeah, I know,” Louis says against his lips and tilts his chin up to press their lips together firmly.

~

The closer the plane gets to landing, the more Liam can’t seem to control the desperate urge to smile until his face goes into shock. Zayn lifts an eyebrow at him, bopping him on the noise and saying, “Thirsty.”

Liam doesn’t dignify that with an answer, biting at his thumbnail and trying not to watch the second hand on his Rolex like a fucking maniac. Zayn just huffs out a laugh and pulls Liam into a hug from across the seat, ruffling his hair. He pulls back but keeps a tight grip at the nape of his neck, fingers digging into his skin.

“We’re almost home,” he says and Liam just tries to bite _his_ fingers, too jittery to sit still. He wishes Zayn would go back to sleep so he could distract himself by hiding bits of sugar in his hair.

“I never thought Louis had such great dick sucking skills, _honestly_ ,” Zayn says, shaking him a little by the neck, twisting his head side to side in mock-disappointment.

Liam raises an eyebrow at him and he knows he’s just trying to get him to relax but he still says, “You’d be surprised.”

“Gross,” Zayn deadpans, “gross, _gross_. I don’t want to think of you two having sex, you’re like my brothers - it’s like incest, Jesus fucking Christ.”

Liam laughs and paws at Zayn’s disgusted face. It works though and he’s able to calm down enough for them to pass through security. Thankfully there aren’t all that many fans or paparazzi hanging around, their plane having landed late into the night and Zayn and Liam share the same tired smiles, waving at the fans that have come out.

They get to the exits where their loved ones are waiting for them and Liam doesn’t need to scan the crowd before he’s being ambushed. He’s almost knocked off his feet from the well-known scent of Louis’ shampoo and mostly the fact Louis’ thrown himself at Liam, wrapping his legs around his waist and holding onto his neck.

“Hi,” Liam says, grinning again, he feels like he’s heart’s going to burst out of his chest. He can’t see anything else but Louis, their noses brushing against each other, breathing into the same space again.

“Hi,” Louis replies, his eyes crinkling at the corners and Liam kisses him, holding him up in the middle of the airport with the cameras and the fans going off all around them. Liam knows Zayn's going to tease them about it later, refer to it as their little Notebook Moment but right now, Liam’s finding it hard to give a shit.

Later, when they get in the car, off to his parents house to see everyone else, Liam rests his head on Louis shoulder, lazily rubbing his cheek against the material of his shirt over his solid shoulders. Louis lifts his arm, curling it around Liam, slotting them together easily.

Liam hugs Louis to him, pushing his hand under his shirt and brushing his thumb against the jut of his hipbone. He turns his face into the warmth of Louis’ neck with a content sigh, eyes shut.

“Try to get some sleep, babe, I’ll be here when you wake up,” Louis murmurs, kissing the top of his head. He rests his cheek against his head, fingers splayed against Liam’s neck, the pads of his fingertips moving against his skin.

Liam feels the nervous, frenzied energy leave his body, the excitement being replaced by the reality of his fatigue. His body’s worn and tired from the final leg of the tour and he hadn’t been able to feel it until Louis let him rest his heavy head against his shoulders.

“Okay,” Liam says, eyelids already turning heavy. He lifts his head with difficulty, his eyes barely open when he brushes their lips together softly. Louis smiles down at him, the one that still makes Liam’s stomach drop down to the floor no matter how many times he sees it, and tucks Liam closer into his side.


End file.
